When You Don’t Have Kids

When You Don’t Have Kids

When the world around me is no longer about me, is that what’s missing? When I don’t see myself as the most important, is that the way it was always supposed to be?

When I hear guys at work talking about their kids in T-ball, smiling so hard inside that it spills out of them, with such force that they revel in telling anyone about what happened over the weekend with their kid – I nod and move along and wonder – have I ever smiled like that?

When I’m told “you don’t really know what it’s like, you’ve never had kids” – is that what’s missing in my life?

When I’m no longer proud of me and I’m longing for something to be proud of – is that what having a kid is all about? Never running out of something to be proud of?